


Up The Ante

by ActualHurry



Series: Letters from a Renegade: Epilogue [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Flirting, Friends to Enemies, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: Shin hangs around. The Drifter tries to keep life typical despite it.(Set after the quest, "The Draw.")





	Up The Ante

**Author's Note:**

> Am I even qualified to use the "porn with plot" tag after all the porn WITHOUT plot I've written? Consider this "porn with character development", I suppose.

“Don’tcha…y’know...got somewhere to be?” The Drifter asked.

“You want me to leave?” Shin replied, not even bothering to spare him a glance.

Drifter made a noise under his breath, turning back to his worktable. “Don’t make a mess outta my stuff.”

As if it could get any messier than it already was. Shin continued to sift through all the gun mods that Drifter had stashed in his alley. The amount of storage crates he had back here boded well for Shin’s goal of decking out another gun for himself. He didn’t want it to be something special – The Last Word couldn’t be disrespected like that – but if Shaxx was going to call him into the Crucible sometime, he needed something reliably nasty.

It’d been a couple of days since Drifter had allowed their little chat. Shin had chosen honesty. He’d started with an explanation of the original plan for the Renegade: to keep tabs on Drifter (out of caution) while aiding in setting up Gambit (out of hope). The Red War had instilled a new breed of fear in the Guardians who remained after the dust had settled and the Light had returned. Shin had then told him of Shaxx’s involvement as Shin’s sole contact – which seemed to be no surprise to Drifter, who’d only scoffed – because the Vanguard wanted nothing to do with him and his Shadow hunt.

That had at least seemed to take Drifter off-guard. Shin had caught himself wondering just how little Drifter really knew about him. How many myths and legends clouded his perception of him.

At the end of it all, the deal they’d agreed on was a simple one. Drifter wouldn’t try to kill him so long as Shin helped him out on the day-to-day… and didn’t draw on him. Ever. The way Drifter still glanced at him every so often, Shin was certain that the paranoia wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He’d even tried to convince Drifter that he’d never been his target. A person-of-interest, of course.

But _target_? Shin snorted as he dug up a counterbalance mod.

“What?” Drifter snapped at him.

Shin side-eyed him. “Nothin’.” He took out the hand cannon he’d pulled from his Vault and started applying the mod, making whatever changes that suited him. Hipfire grip at the cost of a backup modification…

Before Drifter could fling his screwdriver in his direction, the gate rattled to signal a Guardian’s arrival. Drifter turned to talk to them – a Warlock, dressed in reds and golds. Shin had just enough of a view to spot the smile, amicable and welcoming, appear on Drifter’s face like a damn switch flipping.

Something about the ease of it frustrated Shin to no end. Maybe because Drifter’d been nothing but a cranky asshole to him, when before Shin had experienced that same charm. Now all he got was a scowl, and that was if he was lucky. Mostly, it seemed Drifter tried not to pay him attention, even if all Shin could notice sometimes was how Drifter couldn’t _stop_ paying attention to him. A side effect of that eternal paranoia.

“Double motes, promise you that,” Drifter was saying to the Warlock. Shin watched him out of his peripheral, the motion of his hand waving indulgently and then – resting that hand on the Warlock’s shoulder. “I don’t make this offer to just anybody, friend. Tell you what, you go and handle this lil problem for me, I cover you next match.”

The Warlock leaned in to hear the details of whatever fool’s errand Drifter was sending him on, Drifter’s smooth purr going low as his mouth went close to the Warlock’s ear.

The back of Shin’s neck burned. He’d been roped in before, been wrapped around the idea of gunsmoke and honey. Until he’d remembered what a risky game he’d been playing, courting danger like that. Yet here he was again, on the devil’s doorstep, aching to have the weight of that hand on him. Hell, he’d settle for the snake smile.

Shin looked at Drifter’s worktable, the tools all lined up there. He avoided looking at Malfeasance, instead plucking the screwdriver up and away and tucking it into his belt.

“Be seein’ you,” Drifter called after the Warlock. He gave Shin a look. Then, with something that Shin could almost pin as uncertainty, he asked, “You’re really gonna hang around all day?”

“Come up with somethin’ for me to do, I’ll go do it.”

Drifter seemed to actually give it a moment’s thought, raking his gaze over him like he could think of quite a few things for Shin to do. If he came up with anything remotely interesting, he didn’t bother to mention it. Instead, he looked down at his worktable and paused, searching.

Then he focused on Shin again, his face carefully composed in a mask of something less rattled.

“Cough it up, _partner_ ,” Drifter said. He leaned against his table, hand pressed flat atop it. He could grab Malfeasance any time he liked, but if Drifter really drew that infernal piece on him over a borrowed screwdriver, Shin would never let him live it down.

“Quick to throw the blame my way.” Shin stood up, his cloak falling just right over his side where the screwdriver was hiding.

“What, you gonna tell me it grew legs?”

“Would you believe me?”

Drifter sneered and took a step towards him. Shin didn’t budge. Slowly he reached down to his belt, watching Drifter’s posture coil tighter and tighter, as if Shin was about to pull a knife on him instead. He almost told him to relax, but had a feeling that’d just make the whole thing worse.

“See?” Shin added, showing him the screwdriver. He flipped it in the air once, catching it just as expertly.

Now faced with proof that Shin wasn’t about to stab him in the ribs, Drifter glared and stepped closer once more. “The hell did you even need it for?” he asked, within reach now. “That ain’t for mod configuration.”

“Just felt like takin’ it.” Shin twirled the screwdriver between his fingers, then played keep-away as Drifter lunged for it. “Hunter’s instinct.”

“Classes are a crock of shit.”

Drifter grabbed his wrist to keep him from pulling back any farther and Shin interrupted his snarl with a kiss, clumsy and quick. He was better at aiming with a gun; his lips hit the corner of Drifter’s mouth first before he fixed the angle. For a split second, Drifter went taut against him, left Shin at a loss for how to deal with rejection, and then he was kissing him back and relief overtook whatever tension remained in Shin’s body. He let his free hand slip to Drifter’s side, not grabbing as much as he was holding him there while he teased with his tongue.

Maybe it was the touch that did it, or maybe the moment simply lasted too long, but Drifter didn’t let it stay soft. Teeth closed on Shin’s lip and he yanked himself back out of surprise; Drifter chased him, kissed him with brutal desire, the anger likely fueling that fire. Shin knew the feeling. If that was where this was going, so be it. He didn’t mind letting himself get swallowed up in the flames.

Digging his fingers into Drifter’s robes again, he bit him back, licked into his mouth when those lips parted and got a growl for his trouble. Drifter shoved him away one step after another, but never let go of his wrist so Shin pulled him along with him as they fought with teeth and tongue. When Shin’s shoulders hit the solid wall behind him, he dropped the screwdriver, heard it roll away. Drifter didn’t so much as glance for it.

And then his attention was more than monopolized; Drifter got a leg between both of his and Shin’s head thunked into the wall as he groaned, Drifter’s grip tightening on his wrist and Drifter’s body pressing warm and hard along every eager line of his own.

“This what you wanted so bad from me?” Drifter breathed against his lips. The words were harsh but the grinding of his hips was nothing but smooth. “I make you feel _good_. That’s why you won’t leave me alone, huh?”

Didn’t really feel like the time for a conversation, so Shin didn’t make it one. He leaned all into the wall for support, tipped his head back and gave into it. Drifter made a noise, pinned his wrist, used his other hand to pull his cloak off and get at his throat and oh, _oh_ , Shin let him. He hissed as Drifter dug teeth into his neck, shivered when he bit the tender spot underneath his ear – all the while the heat built between them as the friction climbed higher, faster. Shin’s breath hitched as he caught a moan before it slipped out. He held tighter on Drifter’s hip –

“ _Hey_ –” Drifter grabbed Shin’s face, mostly across his mouth, but his thumb pressed firm beneath his chin, resting _nearly_ too hard against his throat. Unmoving, Shin stared at him cautiously, took in the flushed cheeks, wide pupils. The clenched teeth and hard jaw. “Hands to yourself this time. Shin.”

Shin’s mouth was half-smushed under Drifter’s fingers, so he didn’t say anything. But he did lift his hand from Drifter’s hip carefully, lightly. Palm up, showing goodwill. Heart hammering, showing he was into it. But he saw the little flash of _something_ cross Drifter’s face. Relief, maybe.

Hell. Shin wasn’t about to kill him right _now_ of all times. Legends liked to get their rocks off just as much as the next guy.

Drifter slid his hand down to Shin’s throat, and if nothing else, it got his attention. Though his hold stayed loose, it keyed Shin right up.

Shin swallowed. Felt the pressure around his neck. “Wanna take this back to the Derelict?” he suggested, keeping his voice as low as possible to avoid sounding as desperate as he felt.

“No,” Drifter said easily, and let go of him entirely to start disrobing on the spot.

“Don’t want me up there?” Shin guessed, taking off his gloves. His wrist tingled where Drifter had been holding on so tightly, but he paid it no mind. His clothes were too fuckin’ much right now.

“‘Course not,” Drifter scoffed. He tossed his necklace to the floor. “You’re a fuckin’ psycho.”

They tumbled onto the mattress finally – or Shin dropped down onto it and Drifter followed, pressing him to the thin sheets and kissing (biting) Shin until he couldn’t catch his breath. Shin gave as good as he got, eyes squeezing shut when Drifter finally wrapped fingers around his cock and stroked him. His sound of pleasure was muffled into Drifter’s mouth, his hands left grasping at the sheets as much as he’d prefer to be grabbing just about anywhere else.

He had something to prove, regardless of the context – if Drifter was going to believe that Shin had some ill fate left for him, Shin needed to prove him wrong. Again. And again. And again.

Shin jerked as Drifter bit his shoulder, heat pooling in his stomach fast. “Where’s the lube?” he asked breathlessly.

“You should know,” Drifter muttered in his ear before he nipped at him.

Shin panted, arched his hips and made up his mind. He propped himself up on his elbows and went fishing for the bottle between the mattress and the wall. When he found it, he practically threw it at Drifter. Then he spread his legs.

“You’re so predictable,” Shin told him, impatient.

He might as well’ve slapped Drifter for how offended he looked, but then there was a slick finger sliding into him and Shin full-body shivered at the feeling, enjoyed the easy stretch and the rhythm Drifter set. He already knew what he liked. The benefit of a repeat partner.

A second finger joined the first, just as Shin was about to demand something more. His spine wound up tight and he shut his eyes, and suddenly couldn’t breathe with Drifter’s mouth over his own again, stealing the air from his lungs with every movement of his fingers, every hint of teeth on his lip. Drifter fucked him open like that, only leaning back every so often to give Shin enough space to gasp and groan. He seemed to take some measure of calculated enjoyment in the wanton nature of it all, seemed to be taking his time, watching...

Like he was seeing him for the first time.

Arousal shot through him like a bullet and Shin squirmed, managed to say, “I’m fine, fuck me,” while trying to turn over.

“Hey, now. What d’you think you’re doing?” Drifter asked, pressing his hand down on his chest to keep him flat on his back. He ran his gaze up and down Shin’s form. Shin burned from the fever in his eyes. “Kinda figured you’d get shy eventually. Guess you played the Renegade a little too long, huh?” He patted Shin’s chest. “Now, why don’t you stay just like this.”

“You sentimental or somethin’?”

Drifter crooked his fingers up inside him. “Or somethin’,” he purred while Shin fought to catch his breath.

“Lemme touch you then,” Shin said.

Drifter thought about it. Pulled his fingers out of Shin and slowly stroked his cock to get himself slick. Shin was almost distracted enough by it to forget he’d tried to broker a deal.

“Alright,” Drifter allowed. “If you want to so bad, I ain’t about to stop you.”

Shin stayed on his back, nape of his neck prickling with warmth as Drifter lined himself up and pressed inside. The stretch was so much better than fingers alone and, true to his word, Shin reached up behind Drifter’s shoulders to hang on as he bottomed out.

Braced over him, Drifter never once looked away from Shin’s face.

“C’mon,” Shin said, already short of breath.

The singular, momentary lapse of rough edges lasted no longer than it had earlier, when they’d only been kissing. Drifter rocked his hips in once, twice, and then harder, until Shin was left wrapping his legs around his waist and pressing his forehead against him as Drifter bowed low, got their bodies flush as best as he could. Chasing the height of his bliss, Shin reached between them to get a hand on himself, sweat beading on his skin and need like an ache in his veins.

It was a fast-paced, messy fuck, but Shin hadn’t claimed to want anything else. If he’d craved something sweeter, surely he could’ve worked something out with Shaxx, but he knew damn well what he wanted. And it was this – Drifter grabbing tight around his hips, skin against skin, sweat on sweat, air blisteringly hot around their bodies and lacking in his lungs.

Drifter surprised him with a rough kiss, leaned over him in a way that made Shin arch to meet him and _oh_ , that fucking angle hit him like a suckerpunch, muscles taut as a bowstring as he came wet all over his own stomach and chest.

“Fuck you,” he gasped into Drifter’s mouth and felt him laugh in reply. Drifter sealed their lips together again and shivered hard, following Shin into an orgasm. Shin would’ve been flattered, if not for the fact that he was certain Drifter only kissed him to keep Shin from hearing him moan.

He took his time remembering how to breathe again, then pushed Drifter off of him so that he wasn’t crushed under him when he inevitably collapsed. Drifter rolled onto his side next to him. Shin expected a glare, but when he looked over, Drifter was watching him in silence, nothing hostile to be found in his expression... but nothing else either. Shin couldn’t get a read on him.

“What?” he asked, bristling first because of the staring, and second because of how raw his voice sounded to his own ears.

“Just...” Drifter tilted his head slightly and gestured at Shin. “Never heard any stories about the awe-inspirin’ hero, Shin Malphur, gettin’ done in by a good roll between the sheets.”

“Makes me wonder what sorta stories are floatin’ around,” Shin said slowly.

“Nothin’ as juicy as the real thing.” Drifter grinned, mockery written in the cut of his teeth.

“Careful, don’t believe everything you hear.”

Drifter snorted. “You’re tellin’ me.”

As Shin wiped himself down and pulled his pants on again (the weight of Drifter’s eyes never leaving him all the while) he did two things.

One – he wondered how this would’ve gone if Drifter still had no idea who he was. Would it have been softer, somehow? Would it have been just as rough and tumble, exactly as chaotic as it’d ended up? It was likely that Drifter wouldn’t have told him to keep his hands to himself, wouldn’t have gotten jumpy one or three times, would’ve taken them to the Derelict for it instead. That said a lot about trust, Shin figured.

Two – he stole Drifter’s necklace off the floor and tucked it into his boot.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
